


Stabbed in the Back

by nyagosstar



Series: Bitter 'verse [11]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/pseuds/nyagosstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I like to keep busy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stabbed in the Back

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to my beta sainnis. She looks at these things, even when they're short and kind of silly and gives me serious feedback.

“Brother, you can’t go jumping through windows. You’re not sixteen anymore.”

Roy could feel the frustration thrumming through Ed at Al’s words. “I didn’t jump through the window, the motherfucker _threw me_.” He grunted as he came to a stop, supported between Roy and Al, at one of the beds in Al’s clinic. “It’s not like it was my choice. I didn’t wake up this morning and think to myself that I’d like to go ass first through a window.”

Al frowned disapprovingly before looking to Roy. “Help him get settled. I’m going to go get my things.” 

As Al moved off into the storage room, Roy helped Ed lay face down on the bed, careful not to touch his back. Even though he was doing a good job of presenting an angry front, Roy could see Ed was in a great deal of pain and Roy didn’t want to be the cause of any more. He took a seat next to Ed’s head and slowly began picking glass shards from his hair.

“I’m going to have to cut your shirt off, brother. I hope you didn’t like it too much,” Al said as he reappeared with a tray of scissors, scalpels, tweezers and needles. He didn’t bother waiting for Ed’s reply before he sliced through the blood-dark material.

Roy had to turn his attention away from the carnage that was Ed’s back and focused instead on his face. “All right?”

“Yeah, this is great. I love having my little brother spend his afternoon picking glass out of my back.” He flinched as Al began the process of removing the shards.

Ed gasped, his hand tightening into a fist. “Can’t you give him something, or put him out?” Roy said.

“I’ve given him a local, but with the head injury, I’d like to hold off on anything stronger. It could mask symptoms that we need to see.”

“Hey! I’m right here, assholes, and I do not want to spend the rest of the day in some shitty drug-induced haze. Ow, God, Al! Do you think you could be a little more careful? I’d like something of my back left when you’re done.”

“Stop squirming and you’ll be fine.” Al’s hands moved swiftly and with exacting precision that Roy both admired and never wanted to see again. For long moments, the silence was broken only by Ed’s stifled grunts and the clink of glass as it hit the metal tray.

Roy hissed as a shard sliced the edge of his finger as he tried to ease it from Ed’s hair. “You couldn’t wait five minutes for backup?” 

“If I’d have waited five minutes, he would have gotten away. If I had waited five minutes, someone would be asking me why I didn’t go after him. I caught him, you get a killer off the streets and I get paid.” Ed hummed a pained sound. “Al!”

“Sorry. It’s just this one is really deep.” As Al extracted the glass, Roy winced at the size. Ed was lucky he’d gone through the window back first. A piece of glass like that could have easily slit his throat. And from that thought, it was a short jump to visions of finding Ed, bled out at the scene, cold and still instead of swearing and sitting on their suspect.

Careful to avoid the cuts on Ed’s face, Roy stroked his temple. “Don’t you think it’s time to stop taking so many commissions? We don’t need the money.”

Al glanced sharply in his direction, but Ed scarcely acknowledged him. “I like to keep busy.”

“You’re an adrenaline junkie, brother.”

Ed turned his head slightly into Roy’s palm, leaning in to his touch. “Nice, gang up on me when I can’t fight back,” he said with hardly any rancor. Roy worried that Ed had hit his head harder than they’d first thought—he was troublingly docile.

“Some of these are going to need stitches.”

“Okay.” Strangely accommodating.

“Ed?”

“I don’t want to take a break. I don’t want to do anything else. I’m good at this and I’m helping people and I’m stopping evil bastards from doing bad things.” He turned his face all the way into Roy’s hand, most of his words muffled against Roy’s skin. “You can’t make me stop. I won’t, not even for you.”

“I’m not asking you to stop. I’m asking you to be more careful. Wait for help. You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore.”

“I’m not stupid.”

Al snorted, his point made eloquently by the sound of glass dropping into the metal bowl.

“Yeah, you know what? I think I’d like to just lay here and have Al dig around in my back in silence, okay?” He turned and leveled a hard glare at Roy. “So either sit there quietly and finish picking glass out of my hair, or go the fuck home.”

And really, what was Roy meant to do with that except continue the delicate task of extracting bits of glass? “Since you asked so nicely.”


End file.
